


Touch, I Need Something More

by TheDirtyBirdie



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 616!Loki, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Breathplay, Cock Worship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, M/M, MCU!Thor, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pseudo-Incest, Rimming, Vaguely Canon-Adjacent, painal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDirtyBirdie/pseuds/TheDirtyBirdie
Summary: Thor gets his brother back. Some version of him, at least.





	Touch, I Need Something More

**Author's Note:**

> **READ THE TAGS + INFINITY WAR SPOILERS**   
>  _Sincerely, plenty of things in this story deserve a warning. Also, as a hopefully obvious aside: this is really, really not at all reflective of how anyone should ever practice literally a n y t h i n g in real life._
> 
> * [character primer for anyone not familiar with teen/new Loki from 616](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/post/173781467386/miniature-spoiler-free-teen-loki-primer-just-in)  
> 
> * I have no idea how old Loki is actually supposed to be when he becomes teen Loki, but I'm gonna say at least 17 (the second to last pic in the primer is his immediate incarnation)  
> 
> * any acknowledgment of 616 canon/how Loki got to the MCU is hand-wavy at best  
> 
> * title is from [Touch](https://open.spotify.com/track/7oaEjLP2dTJLJsITbAxTOz?si=ZA0_tZ85SzSKBu_OZC6-Jw) by Daft Punk ft. Paul Williams

Thor knows that death has finally, truly taken his brother from him. This is no false loss, no trick like any other time before. He heard the sickening snap of Loki’s neck in Thanos’ fist with such painful clarity he felt it reverberate through his own bones, he saw his eyes go red with blood as the light in them died. He felt his body going cold and rigid beneath his hands.

For this reason, Thor feels a great many things when he enters the room that has been provided for him by Stark’s companion in his absence to find his brother sprawled out over his bed. Not only is he alive and well, he carries the fresh face and vitality of his youth with a lightness that he’s not certain Loki- his Loki, for this boy before him cannot be one and the same- had ever possessed.

He is angry. He is relieved. He is confused, elated, hurt, and aching.

Most of all, he is tired.

“Please,” He sighs, striding into the room with nary a glance towards the boy on his bed for fear that he may be taken in by the desire for this illusion to be sincere. “I wish not to fight you.” He slumps down into one of the comfortable chairs set out by the widow off the side of the bed, leather creaking under his weight. His hammer sits on the table to his side, it’s no accident. “Reveal your true self and let’s have this out quickly.”  
“Right.” The boy- not Loki, he cannot think of him as such, answers. His tone is sharp, if slightly amused, and achingly familiar. “I mean, I can’t blame you for thinking so, but I’m no illusion, and you’re not actually who I’m looking for.” He turns then to face the boy, that’s- that’s no reason to get his hopes up, he insists, though it is suspicious and relieving all at once.

“No? Then what are you doing in my room?” For a moment the boy’s sharp smile twists into a grin as though Thor is about to laugh, join him in a joke. He looks confused when none come.  
“I mean, I _figured_ with- everything. You know.” He gestures between them with slender, painted fingers. Thor is confused, as he so often had been by Loki when the were both as young as the boy before him. He despises it and yet finds himself strangely warmed by the familiar feeling of it.  
“I don’t know. And, you still haven’t told me who you’re looking for, though I’m starting to have some idea.” The boy rolls a lip between his teeth and, now wise to his brother’s games, Thor _knows_ what he’s thinking, or, rather, what he wants Thor to be thinking. He wonders if Loki had truly been so obvious and he so oblivious in their youth.   
“I was hoping to talk to _me_. I thought I’d be here.” The boy clarifies.

“You don’t know?” He is either a _very_ accomplished liar, even more so than his Loki is- was, or he truly does not know, which raises many, many questions about where he could possibly be from to have escaped Thanos’ reach. “Truly?” The boy nods slowly, beginning to look as suspicious of Thor as he is of him.  
“You- Loki, he’s gone. Dead.” For a moment, the boy just stares, face gone pale.  
“No.” He scoffs, sounding more as though he wishes to convince himself than Thor. “It was likely an illusion, I’m good at those, you know?” He grins, a little sweet, a little sharp, but still unable to shake the nervous edge.  
“I know. This was no illusion.”

The boy stares at him for a long moment, his face has shifted and this- this expression is truly one he knows too well for comfort. He’s searching him, he stares at and through him with a singular intensity that makes him feel transparent in a way no one else ever has. No one except Loki.

“You- you’re really him?” His voice comes out rougher than he expects. The boy- Loki, it seems, holds his gaze a moment longer before throwing himself back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh and Thor is torn between the desire to cry, laugh, or throttle him. His arms fly up in the air.  
“Yes. Sort of. I’m Loki, but I’m not _your_ Loki. Not anyone’s Loki, technically.” He clarifies in the least clarifying way possible, as he has a tendency to do. “I’m not- er, _from here_ . If you catch my drift.” He gestures vaguely before dropping his arms to splay out over the bed, defeated.  
“I don’t.” Thor informs him with a slight smile, rocking to his feet. He hears the static of building electricity under his skin rushing through his ears as he steps closer to the bed, overwhelmed by the intensity of feeling that draws him forward. The need to be closer, to touch.

Without warning, he brings a knee up on the bed, between the boy’s legs, and leans over him, flattening his palm over the spot where he’d feel the beat of his heart were the thick leather not in the way. He can hardly bring himself to be too bothered when he recognizes the feel and make of it, clearly Asgardian. He aches for all that he has lost as the boy tries to struggle up under him, hands coming to grip his arm. His strength is ineffectual against Thor’s.

“Wow there, big guy. I know what I said, but I’m not actually _your_ Loki, remember? Let’s not get-”  
“What did you mean?” Thor ignores him.  
“I said I’m _not your brother_ . Technically. Have you heard of the multiverse? I was trying to time-”  
“No.” Thor pushes down on his chest and the boy lets himself drop back. He looks far from comfortable, but Thor knows, if they are at all alike, he could find a way to slip away if he truly wanted to. There are sparks of electricity flying around his fingers where they press into the boy’s chest.

“When you said you figured you’d find _yourself_ in my room, because of ‘everything’.” He mimics Loki’s earlier gesture between them with his free hand before settling it back against the bed. “What did you mean?” For a moment, Loki just stares at him, somehow managing to be both slack-jawed and discerning in one.  
“Come on, you’re not serious, are you?”  
“What would I gain by tricking you?” At that Loki’s befuddlement slips away into something slightly more contemplative.

“Nothing. I guess.” He sighs and tips his head back, eyes turning upwards, though Thor is near certain it’s done out of avoidance rather than irritation if the slight flush of his cheeks is anything to go by. “In my universe, before I was remade-”  
“Remade?” Thor asks, curious. Loki shushes him sharply.  
“You and I were, you know. A thing.”

And- he can’t. Loki- not Loki, dear Hel his head hurts, he _can’t_ mean it as he thinks he does.  
“You can’t mean- we weren’t-”  
“Boning?” Loki puts it, crass, out into the air between them as he looks up at Thor, eyes sharp as his grin as the flush has receded from his cheeks. “Getting down? Doing the nasty? Making the beast with two backs? Givin’ it the business? _Fuck-_ ” Thor covers his mouth with his free hand, breathing heavy and feeling the burn of his own cheeks.

They can’t have, they’d- only in his most private thoughts had he ever considered the desire, always shame had followed. There had been moments, growing up, that made him question how alone he could truly be in this feeling, but he’d managed to dismiss them as projection, wishful thinking at its worst. When they’d been on the ship, he’d thought maybe- surely- but then Thanos had arrived and everything was gone. Slipped through his fingers before he could truly grasp it.

Loki- because he is, he is. Perhaps not his, not entirely, but in part, makes a pained noise behind his hand and he pulls it away, pressing it into the mattress by his head, brushing over the ends of soft hair.  
“You’re going to singe my clothes.” Loki complains, trying and failing to hide his breathlessness entirely. Thor glances down and indeed, the sparks have grown into small tendrils of electricity, flitting out across Loki's chest. He finds himself not particularly inclined to cease them.  
“I’m sure you can repair them easily enough.” He quips. “What with all of your tricks, no?”  
“It’s the principle.” Loki huffs, and- give him strength, he feels both more and less like _his_ Loki with every word that passes through his lips and Thor is losing his sense to it.  
“Perhaps you should remove them.”

The words come easy, so easy he shocks even himself. Loki doesn’t react, staring up at him for a long moment before a stubborn set falls over his features.

“You think I won’t?” Thor shrugs as best as he can from his position and- and then Loki is bare beneath him. He can feel his heartbeat through the heat of his skin and Loki looks just as he had when Thor’s desire for him had been at its worst. His yearning had deepened with time, but when they’d been like this, on the cusp of true manhood, still caught between youth and responsibility, Thor had _wanted_ him in a way so visceral it burned under his skin every time he caught a glimpse of him.

He’d thrown himself into battle with a vigour that had earned him a plethora of sonnets and more than his fair share of willing bed partners, but never quite managed to push his brother’s sleek figure from his awareness, no matter what form he took at the time. Now, though, it seems he may finally have what he so desired, what he spent his nights aching for. Has he not lost enough to deserve at least this?  
“Do mine as well.” He commands, and, by no small miracle, Loki listens. It may be the first time in a millenium, if not a lifetime.

Thor is bare, and for all his affected nonchalance, Loki is flushed down to his chest and when he glances down he can see that his slender cock has grown thick despite himself. Thor drops down, unwilling to waste a moment with something so sweet waiting for him, and Loki moans wanton into his mouth as he crushes their lips together, facade slipping away easily as sand through a sift.

He feels every inch of Loki’s skin under his, slipping one hand down to grope at the boy’s tight waist as the other winds its way through inky locks and tugs, sharp. Loki gasps into his mouth and brings his legs up around Thor’s waist so he can grind up into him, clawing near-viciously into his back. He feels somehow both volatile and sweet rolled into one perfect union and Thor wonders how he ever doubted the truth of him.

Loki cries out as lighting burns across his skin, enough to sting, Thor’s sure, but it won’t leave anything more than a welt, at most. He slips down the boy’s smooth, sharp jaw and buries his face in his neck as he grinds down into him, Loki’s own hands slipping down to grope greedily at his ass, nails digging into his skin to leave his own marks and make Thor moan rough into his skin. Loki laughs in his ear, so light and full of want, and Thor has to pull back to stop himself from coming to tears.

He sits back on his heels between Loki’s legs, hands dragging down over the boy’s slender body as he goes, coming to rest on his hips, thumbs massaging into his skin dangerously close to his pretty, pert cock in a way that makes Loki groan and squirm under his touch.

“I want…” Thor trails off, unsure where to start. He wants so much, he wants _everything_. Loki grins and slides his feet up Thor’s thighs. One lingers there and the other pushes against the joint of his hip, not enough to move him anywhere, just enough to apply pressure in a way that makes heat swell through him, stretching his arms up over his head and putting himself on display with a lack of shame that would worry Thor were he not the one currently reaping its rewards.

He tilts his head to the side with a dangerous grin on his face.  
“Can I guess?” He asks, curling his toes against Thor’s skin. The tickle of it makes his swollen cock twitch.  
“I doubt I could stop you.” Loki laughs.  
“You _do_ know me. Brilliant.” He splays his thighs wide without letting them slip away from Thor and brings his hands down, one slipping into the soft mess of his hair, and the other dragging down his chest, painfully slow.

“I know you want to fuck me, who could blame you, but where?” He ponders playfully. “You could have my mouth.” He smirks. “I’m sure you’ve longed to shut me up in every universe that exists.”  
“I love it when you speak.” Thor corrects, words coming out little more intensely than he’d intended them to, but he means them all the same. Loki looks startled. “I just wish you’d spoken the truth more freely. For your own sake more than mine.” Something sharp twists in Thor’s gut as he’s reminded that similar as he may be, this is not his Loki.

Still, he’s close enough to read the tension in Thor’s shoulders and push forward before he can get bogged down anew by the agony of his mourning, still fresh, though the boy can’t know that. He slips his legs around Thor’s waist and twists until he’s astride him. It takes Thor a moment to register the change that has taken place, he feels the swell of soft breasts brushing against his chest and the distinct lack of a cock.

“Perhaps you’d prefer me like this? Less like your brother, more like the women you always favoured? As I’ve known you, at least.” Her words are full of bravado, but Thor senses something testing below them. He’s well familiar with Loki’s tests, and this would be a simple one to pass even if that weren’t the case. One of his hands rests over the swell of her hips as the other cards through hair grown only slightly longer.  
“Surely you see by now that I like you no matter what form you take?” He can feel Loki’s muscles relax as she leans in to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw through a small smile.  
“You’re so like him.” She near-whispers into his skin.  
“I could say the same.”

It’s a strangely somber moment, and Thor feels both relieved and slightly bereft when it passes. Loki falls back to the bed with a sigh and something closer to a smile than a smirk, having slipped back into his male form. Thor wants to ask why, but he won’t. It doesn’t feel like his place, strangely enough.  
“Well,” He huffs. “You may not know what you want, but I certainly know what _I_ want.” He’s using his heels to kick at Thor’s thighs, drawing him forward with a hungry look on his face. Thor makes his way up his body until he’s seated over his chest, cock obscuring his view of Loki’s face in the most obscenely gorgeous way he thought he’d never get to see.

His hands come up to brush along Thor’s thighs as he cranes his neck to press a chaste kiss to the base of his cock. It quickly turns messy and Thor groans as his own hands slip down to fist in Loki’s hair. He’s not gentle but the rough touch only spurs the boy on. Loki mouths carefully but eagerly at the sack of Thor’s balls and moans, rough and ragged, at the feel of his tongue exploring the almost too-sensitive skin.

It seems silly now, that he _hadn’t_ been willing to risk everything to experience this earlier. Especially as it had all been for naught, in the end. Still, now is not the time for melancholy. He uses one hand to tug Loki off his balls and the other to angle his cock down, letting his hips drop so the boy will be able to take him in full, as he suspects he's plenty capable of already. He pointedly does not wonder how he came about such _talents_ , as this version of Loki is not truly his to possess.

Loki smiles under his cock and tilts his head back to run his lips along the bottom of it, tongue peeking out to trail over him, touch just slight enough to tease. When he reaches the head of him he drags his tongue over it, glancing down to watch the drag of his own skin, before looking back up at him as he presses a wet, open kiss to him with a smile on his face. Thor groans, his brother has always been far from innocent, but this is truly another thing altogether.

The boy moans as he begins to suckle at the tip of his cock, slowly sinking down to take him in properly, bit by bit, further with every bob of his head. He seems to be in no rush and something about his relaxed pace feels smug, near like a challenge. He moans lazily around him, hollowing his cheeks as he drags slowly back off Thor’s cock before sinking down again, and Thor feels the same urge rise in him that had encouraged him to execute more than a reasonable number of ill-thought out pranks against him in their youth, vying to gain the upper hand over his brother, capture and hold his attention.

When Loki tries to pull off, he grips his hair tight, not letting him move, and thrusts forward, cock dragging over the back of his throat. Loki’s blackened nails dig into the meat of his thigh and his eyes fall shut, Thor can see the bulging muscles and veins of his throat as he sputters and chokes around his cock, trying to find air that won’t come, but he never tries to push away.

Thor finally lets him fall back and Loki coughs immediately as Thor’s cock bobs over his face, smearing a slick mix of precome and spit over his cheek when he pitches forward to gain his breath. When Loki finally looks up at him with flushed cheeks and wet, red eyes, Thor expects anger, but he finds instead a desire that can only be described as giddy. Loki leans up as much as he can manage to drag Thor’s leaking cock over his face, smearing mess into his hair as he kisses down the side of it, smirking up at Thor as he goes.

“Fuck.” Loki moans. “Look at the size of you. It’s going to hurt to speak for _days_ .” It should be a complaint, but Loki sounds deliciously pleased by the fact. “I want you to do that again. And don’t you dare stop, this time. Seriously.” Thor doesn’t need to be told again.  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiles down at the boy. Loki moans as he stuffs his mouth full of cock once more, pushing forward with his hips and holding him tight by the hair until the noise is reduced to a garbled, wet mess as he feels Loki’s throat contract around the head of his cock.  

Thor begins fucking into his mouth in earnest now that he knows beyond doubt the boy can take it. He watches Loki, red faced and messy, alternately moaning and choking over cock, driving himself back down the length of him, blatantly desperate for more every time he pulls back to let him fill his lungs anew. He keeps going until there are tears streaming from the corner of his eyes and mixed drops of spit and precome slipping out from the stretch of his lips, slowly dripping down his chin. Thor has a short window of time to consider where he’d like to finish, and in the end he decides the idea of spilling something of himself inside Loki, to carry around with him for days, is too appealing to pass up.

He grips Loki’s hair tighter, enough to be painful, and speeds his thrusts to the point that it’s impossible for Loki to retain even the slightest control over the movements. The boy lets his neck go limp so Thor can fuck his face as vigorously as he likes and that pushes him just to the edge. He reaches down with his other hand and massages at his cock through Loki’s throat, not so secretly hoping to leave him bruised, until he feels the punch of orgasm rock through him, spilling down the boy’s throat. Grinding up into his face as he milks his orgasm.

“Look at me.” He rasps out, commanding. It’s clearly a struggle, but Loki manages to look up at him, nose crushed against his pelvis and eyes gone hazy, trying to roll back ever so slightly as he fights the urge to gag. When he finally, finally pulls back and out, Loki’s lips have near gone blue as the boy falls back to the mattress, wheezing and panting as he regains his breath and, judging by the unfocused nature of his eyes, waits for his vision to stop spinning with lack of oxygen.

Thor takes advantage and gives into impulse, shifting forward and down to wipe his spent cock over Loki’s face. He expects nothing, really, but Loki whines and opens his mouth to tongue and suck at him, messy wet, as he goes. Loki suckles and kisses and laps at his cock as he smiles up at him, breathing slowly evening out, though the flush refuses to leave his cheeks, and Thor finds himself near transfixed. Though, not quite.

Without warning, Thor slips back down his body, slipping down off the mattress and onto his knees, dragging Loki down the bed by the legs as the boy groans.   
“I need to taste you.” He breathes hot into the skin of Loki’s thigh as he begins kissing his way up the inside of it.  
“Please, be my guest.” Loki pants through the shadow of a laugh. Thor nips up this thigh, pulling him by the hips until he’s resting just at the edge of the bed, one leg splayed shamelessly out to the side and the other thrown over Thor’s shoulder.

He grips the flesh of Loki’s ass and spreads him wide, savouring the boy’s shiver and spurring a delicious moan when he leans in to lick over the centre of him, the one difference he’s not sorry for is this. The way this Loki is so beautifully ready to submit himself to pleasure in a way he’s certain his brother would not be, especially with him, no matter how he’d wanted him. He’s sure he’d have carried on as if it were a competition on principle alone.

This Loki, though, he writhes back against Thor’s mouth as his tongue prods and slips over his muscle. He bites against the flesh of him with a grin. “I bet you could finish untouched, just like this.” He taunts low against the boy’s skin. Loki begins a smart response, but Thor ruins his ability to finish his thought when he leans forward and pushes hard with his tongue until it slips past the ring of muscle.

“You-” Loki pants, straining back against his face as though it’s the only way he can stop himself from pulling back. “You’re such a bastard. Glad to see that’s the same everywhere.” Thor chuckles into him as he huffs out a breathless laugh above him. Thor seals his lips around Loki's hole and sucks as he fucks him with his tongue, it’s enough to send Loki over the edge and he seems surprised by his own orgasm. Thor just stays where he is, appreciating every painful clench of Loki around him.

He pulls back, marvelling at the mess Loki has fallen to. “We need some oil.” The words no more pass his lips before his hand is slick, oil conjured from thin air to suit their needs. He smiles and slips two fingers into Loki without warning. The boy moans, slightly pained, and bucks away from his fingers but Thor’s arm comes up to pin his hips as he pumps his fingers into Loki with a grin. It feels good, seeing him reduced in such a sweet way. He specifically does not allow himself to consider how this may well be the only time he sees such a thing, knowing he’ll appreciate it more if he stay in the moment.

He moves to add a third finger but as soon as it presses against Loki the boy shouts.  
“No!” He startles Thor into stillness, worry striking him. “No,” He says again, more relaxed. “Just fuck me. I like it better when it hurts.” Thor is momentarily stunned, both at Loki’s blatant admission and the way it makes unexpected arousal stir in his chest, and then he laughs.  
“Of course you do.” He crawls up onto the bed, rubbing the rest of the oil over his cock, and finds himself momentarily distracted by the mess of Loki’s come spattered over his stomach and chest.

He runs a hand through it, smearing come all across Loki’s skin, and brings it up to Loki’s mouth, groaning at the way the boy smirks and takes his fingers, cleaning them off with a sincere eagerness that helps spur Thor back to full hardness. He drops down to kiss him, messy, chasing the taste of the boy through his own mouth, before pulling back to flip him over. Loki laughs, filthy and happy, and he wishes he could bottle the sound of it. He’s sure it will be a lifetime before the echo of it fades from his mind.

Loki reaches back to spread himself open, pushing up, _presenting_ himself before Thor can do it himself, and he’s powerless to hold back a groan. He leans forward, one hand gripping the base of his cock and the other pressing down over the nape of Loki’s neck to steady himself, and drags his cock down the crease of him just to revel in the moment.

Still, even he hasn’t the patience of a saint, and when his cock catches on Loki’s hole, he can’t help pressing forward. Somehow Loki is still tight to the point of near pain and he suspects magic is at work, here, but he hardly cares. The head of him pops past the ring of muscle and Loki shivers beneath him as he pushes forward, slow but relentless, to sheath himself in his heat entirely.

It’s impossible not to move, then, and by the sounds of it his thrusts have Loki caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, just as he’d craved. Thor has always taken pride in meeting the needs of his lovers, this one especially, and there’s a deep satisfaction to the way Loki babbles nonsense under his grip. The drag of Loki’s body is sweet in a way he’s never known, will never know again. He’s not the first man- boy, he’s taken this way, but he is Loki, in some way or another, and nothing else will ever feel so singularly painful and satisfying at the same time, he’s sure of it.

Loki is clenching down against him and Thor catches him rutting down into the mattress. He drops down entirely, letting Loki take his full weight, and wraps one arm around his hips to grip his cock where it’s crushed between his body and the mattress, wrapping the other up so his hand comes around Loki’s throat, squeezing just enough to make sure he can’t lose awareness of its presence. Bending his legs to lift them both by the hips and create more leverage, he starts fucking up into Loki hard enough to feel the force of his thrusts reverberating through the other boy’s body, pressed against him.

Like this they don’t last long, he feels himself closing in on orgasm and tightens his grip around both Loki’s throat and cock, sending him thoroughly over the edge of orgasm. He thinks he might sob, but it’s impossible to focus past the clench of his body around his cock. His muscle milks Thor’s second orgasm from him, and the idea that he’s now marked Loki’s insides so thoroughly, so deeply that he will stay with him for days, is one that lingers even as both their bodies go lax.

He shifts them both to the side, unwilling to leave Loki’s body just yet, and slips the hand that had been over his throat up to card through his sticky, soft hair, other caressing down over his thigh. Loki says nothing, a rarity for certain, but what is there to say. There’s nothing to be gained, right now. They are what they are, not quite what each other needs, but a near thing, and all they currently have.

Eyes closed and face buried in the boy’s neck, Thor finds the most similar thing about him. His scent. Right down to the most essential essence, the smell of him is the same. The smell is _his_. His Loki, his home, his world. Everything that he will never have again, never hold, never breathe in and take for granted. He wonders if Loki is thinking something similar of him. He wonders where he came from, what he’s lost. Hopefully nothing near the losses of he and his own Loki. Surely they cannot be doomed to suffer so greatly in every existence afforded to them.

He falls asleep like that. Still inside Loki, arms wrapped around him and face buried deep enough in his neck that he can almost pretend the one is his arms is the one who truly belongs there.

When he wakes, Loki is gone, and a truly familiar figure sits in the chair by the window.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, hope everyone had fun while I got to release a little pent up perversion. Feel free to comment/request below or on [tumblr](https://dirtybirdie.tumblr.com/) ♥ I've never actually written this pairing before, in any form, but I suspect this won't be the last time.


End file.
